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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234518">Unspoken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbecauseyoubelievesomething/pseuds/justbecauseyoubelievesomething'>justbecauseyoubelievesomething</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Clarke dreams about Bellamy, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Jealousy, POV Clarke Griffin, Pining, Self-Denial, Somewhat Anti-Becho, Unrequited Love, canonverse, season 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:41:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbecauseyoubelievesomething/pseuds/justbecauseyoubelievesomething</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Bellarke drabble for Writer's Month 2020. Prompt 27: dream.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Echo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Writer's Month 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unspoken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She dreams of Bellamy, while they lay under the desert stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not a new phenomenon. Clarke’s dreamed of Bellamy for years. Almost every night for six years, in fact. But this time, he’s here, mere feet away from her sleeping bag. Cuddled up with Echo of all people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s… something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tells herself it’s shocking, but not unexpected. He thought she was dead. He didn’t know if they’d ever make it back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were never anything together anyways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s delusional, maybe. That’s probably true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t let Madi see her swiftly decaying attitude as they lay out their sleeping bags. She lets Madi chatter about the trip and the danger and how glad she is to be back with Clarke. She listens as the girl’s breathing slowly evens off and she lets the familiar sound lull her to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she dreams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bellamy doesn’t have a beard in her dreams. He never has, but this time it makes her laugh a little. Dream Bellamy smirks at her and beckons her closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she steps forward she realizes they’re standing in a familiar clearing, rickety walls of wood and scrap metal surrounding them. She glances over her shoulder and feels a wave of contentment at the sight of the dropship towering behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Bellamy says and she turns back to him, indulging herself in his sunny smile. She can’t wait any longer, runs forward and launches herself into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs and spins her around. Her toes brush through the grass and her stomach swirls faster than the trees around them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally stops spinning and lets her stand, planted firmly against his chest. She lets her fingertips trail up the firm muscles of his arms. His breath puffs against the bridge of her nose and she leans against his chin with a little sigh of relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he asks, still smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just so happy to see you,” she whispers. “Everything… everything was wrong before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls back slightly, the explanation on the tip of her tongue. An admittance of feelings she’d never be able to voice in the waking world. But she’s interrupted by a voice from behind them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bellamy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both turn and instead of the dropship, there’s a long spiraling ramp stretching down from a pale light above. The clearing around them is dark and the trees are gone, replaced with rusty chain-link fencing. Clarke jumps back a step realizing the grass under her feet is cement now, slick with fresh blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Octavia’s fighting pit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A scene straight from a nightmare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bellamy seems unbothered, his grin only growing as he looks to the voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Echo!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke’s heart pounds as she realizes it’s the slender spy making her way across the kill floor, arms spread wide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bellamy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bellamy pushes away from Clarke, just roughly enough to feel like a concrete dismissal. He grabs Echo and wraps her in a desperate clutching hug, the kind Clarke has dreamed of for six years. When he pulls back, it’s only to grab Echo’s face in both hands and kiss her deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke feels a tear run down her face, then another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bellamy turns towards her and then inexplicably winks at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enjoying the show, Princess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her jaw drops. “I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Echo turns towards her as well, almost haughtily, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. “You can’t even say anything? Coward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke’s throat burns with shame. “No, it’s not like… not like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Echo laughs and the mocking sound rebounds through Clarke’s head. “It’s exactly like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bellamy’s gaze is softer, but he doesn’t move from Echo’s side. “Come on, Clarke. What do you want to tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke clenches her fists at her sides. “I…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s just a dream. Why can’t she even say it in a dream?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too late.” Bellamy winks at her again and she can’t stand the brightness of his smile against the storminess of her thoughts so she ducks her head down and she screams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyelids flick open, the fire so low she can barely discern the shadows of those sleeping around her. Across the embers she can just make out the curled heap of Bellamy and Echo. She imagines them intertwined, breathing softly against each other’s shoulders. Completely vulnerable. Trusting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rolls over and screws her eyes closed against the threatening tears, trying to ignore the repeating voice in her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coward.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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